Tails from the Burrow, a new Kit in the litter
by TheXtraWeasley
Summary: This is a continuous story wherein Harry becomes a member of the Weasley family and now has Arthur Weasley to answer to when trouble ensues. WARNING there will be SPANKING/CP of minors and family fluff. Don't like? Don't read. Thank you!
1. Chapter 1 Knowing what's best

Author's notes:

This is a sequel following the story 'Wrath of a Weasley' in which Harry adjusts to life as a Weasley.

Feel free to post a review, maybe even suggest a few things you'd like to see. Maybe I'll take you up on some of them! :)

 _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_ _—_

Arthur Weasley certainly kept true to his word about the whole clean slate thing. It had been a few days since the incident had been dealt with and now it was as if it never happened. Not counting the usual teasing from Fred and George (whenever they squirmed in their hard chairs at meal times the following day), it was completely forgotten. Molly and Arthur were ever kind to him, making sure he got extra portions whenever he finished a meal (which he always declined because he was so full from the first helping), making sure he was comfortable and warm enough whenever he went to bed (Molly would always come in half way through the night and give him an extra blanket anyway) and Arthur was more than delighted when Harry agreed to help him figure out the mechanics of a muggle radio one afternoon.

The boy _would_ have thought they were just being nicer to him because of his situation, but this was how Arthur and Molly had been treating him last summer too. They were just the kindest, most loving people the boy had ever known. He thought himself _so_ lucky to be spending Christmas with them.

The Weasleys certainly held Christmas in high regard, unlike the Dursleys who put up their tree maybe a week before Christmas day and Harry had to watch them place every single one of Dudleys (fifty or so) presents around it until there was hardly any floor space left. The Weasleys certainly didn't have quite the abundance of brightly wrapped gifts of all shapes and sizes under their thin, dry Christmas tree-just a few squashy presents in cheap wrapping paper (Dudley would have been mortified!) There was maybe one or two presents for each child, all labelled with a handwritten note that melted Harry's heart every time he looked them over.

Notes like,

 _To Ronnie._

 _Merry Christmas, dear. We know you've had your eye on this for some time._

 _Love Mum and Dad x_

And,

 _To Ginny_

 _Merry Christmas sweetie. Congratulations on making it into Gryffindor,_

 _We're so proud!_

 _Love Mum and Dad x_

There had even been two presents for _him_. A medium sized squashy one wrapped in blue, shiny paper and a rather hard rectangular one which had him constantly picking it up, shaking it about and trying to figure out what it could possibly be (' _A paddle for Mum and Dad to keep you in line_ ' was what the twins had told him). Not only that, but he'd read the note attached to it at least twenty times over, his heart aching with joy every single time he finished reading.

 _To Harry,_

 _Merry Christmas love! We're so happy to have you join our little family_

 _Love Molly and Arthur x_

 _—_

"Tree looks sort of battered, doesn't it?" Ron asked after lunch that afternoon as he and Harry decided against going out with Percy, Fred and George into the snowy wonderland beyond the warmth of the burrow and settled themselves down onto the squashy sofas with a pack of fifty or so wizarding cards in their hands each. "Not like the ones at Hogwarts, flimsy thing can barely hold up the lights."

Harry glanced over at the Weasley family tree. It was thin and the branches were withered, pines were scattered on the floor amidst the small collection of presents, (which Molly kept grumbling about having to clean up). The lights sort of hung on for dear life to what little support they had, twinkling on and off with the help of a charm. The star on top was lopsided, practically sliding down an inch or two per day and the baubles of all different colours glistened weakly from the faint glow of the lights. Each kit had taken it upon themselves to adorn the tree with their own personal touches. Molly and Ginny had nestled some wonderfully baked ginger cookies against the branches (who winked their chocolate eyes now and again). Percy had rolled up some pieces of parchment tied together with golden and burgundy ribbon to look like scrolls, (which he shoved delicately into the tree, making sure to present them as neatly as possible of course). The twins had wanted to adorn the little tree with a few of _Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks_ which Molly had immediately declined, so the pair settled on hanging a pair of screaming yo-yos instead. Ron had hung a few of his favourite wizarding cards with a bit of string to a couple of branches, having not been able to come up with anything better.

The tree was a lot like the family really. What it lacked in rich presentation, it made up for in heart and character. Harry loved the tree, even if Ron seemed quite embarrassed by it.

"It's not so bad." he answered after a moment, turning back to face the freckled boy. Harry then looked down at the cards in his hand, "I'll swap you a Balfour Blane for a Cyprian Youdle." he decided.

"Balfour Blane? Aw c'mon I've got about five of him. Don't you have Derwent Shimpling or Dunbar Oglethorpe?"

Harry looked through the deck of his cards again, trying to find one that might tickle Ron's fancy.

"How about an Edgar Strougler?"

Ron looked as if he was considering it for a moment before then nodding his head,

"All right, here's your Cyprian Youdle. Pleasure doing business with you." The red head laughed, taking the card from Harry and handing one back in return. "You're just mad about all the Quidditch related cards aren't you?"

"I can't help it." Harry grinned, looking down at his card. "The _only_ Quidditch referee ever to die during a match? That's pretty interesting."

"You better keep an eye out for Joscelind Wadcock then." Ron answered, looking through his stack of cards for the third time. "Actually now that I think about it, I bet Dad's got one of those. Why don't you ask him?"

"The Chaser for Puddlemere united? Isn't your Dad more of a Cannons fan?" Harry asked, though the thought of getting his hands on that card was certainly appealing. Puddlemere United were his _favourite_ team! At least at the moment, it could always change as he got older.

"Dad doesn't really support a team, he just enjoys the game." Ron shrugged.

"Oh." Harry answered. "Well, I guess I could go ask him." the boy set down his deck of wizard cards and then smirked at Ron, "Oh and don't even think about touching those." he said in his best Molly Weasley impression which caused Ron to smirk. He didn't really care either way if Ron did rifle through his deck, as long as he didn't pilfer his Quidditch and broomstick related cards that is. Harry made his way up the creaky wooden steps and then along the Hall to Mr and Mrs Weasley's bedroom. He curled his fingers into a fist, about to knock…but then _—_

 _"Doesn't sound happy? For goodness sake Arthur, maybe you're reading a little too much in between the lines? Surely he wants what's best for Harry?"_

Harry frowned. They were talking about him? The boy knew it would be wrong to eavesdrop of course, but he couldn't help himself. The young Gryffindor pressed his ear against the cream coloured bedroom door and listened carefully to every word.

"He's asked to meet in person _immediately_ , Molly, and there was no usual paragraph containing Christmas wishes either."

"Well it _is_ a bit too important to discuss through letters alone." Molly answered, sitting down at the night stand and squirting her usual cheap but sweet-smelling perfume onto her neck. "Honestly Arthur, I think you're worrying yourself over nothing."

"I just have a bad feeling, that's all." The man sighed, running a hand through his thinning red hair. Maybe he _was_ worrying about nothing? He was just dreading the possibility of Albus Dumbledore not being open to the idea of Harry being taken into their home.

"Whatever happens dear, Harry is staying _here._ " Molly answered firmly, setting down the bottle of perfume and charming her hairbrush to drag through her bushy red hair of it's own accord. "I'll fight off Dumbledore and anyone else who wants to take him away from us if I have to!" the ferocity in her voice was not to be ignored.

"They'll certainly rue the day they decided to cross _you_ , Molly Weasley." Arthur smiled, putting his hands on his wife's shoulders and leaning down to kiss her on the lips.

"Oh they certainly will." Molly chuckled into the kiss and then smiled once he pulled away, "Are you going to meet Albus tonight?"

"Yes, when the kits are in bed." Arthur decided, the man then looked over to the door and rose a brow when he heard the floorboards creak just outside their room. Harry had unfortunately taken a moment of silence to shift his position, and it had not gone unnoticed. Arthur took out his wand and gave it a flick, opening the door. He was not happy to see Harry almost tumble onto their sea foam green carpet. "Harry." he frowned.

"Uh…sorry I was just…uh _—_ _"_ Harry shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, avoiding Mr Weasleys stern gaze. Well, this hadn't been part of the plan.

" _—_ Eavesdropping on a private conversation?"

"...No?"

"Don't lie to me, Harry James."

Harry winced at the use of his first and middle name.

"I heard my name and…I got curious." the boy admitted sheepishly, gaze fixed on the carpet beneath his navy woolly-sock clad feet. "…Sorry."

Arthur sighed softly and nodded a little in understanding. He couldn't be angry with this boy, even if he wanted to be.

"It's all right, just don't do it again, understood?" Harry nodded and both Weasley parents exchanged anxious looks, knowing Harry had likely heard everything they had been talking about. "How much did you hear?" he asked after a moment of silence between the three of them.

"I heard you guys talking about Dumbledore and that you're going to meet him tonight." The boy answered honestly.

"Thank you for being honest, Harry." Arthur praised and sighed. "I _was_ going to talk to you about this a little later on but, given the circumstances, I suppose we can talk about it now." Arthur took a seat on the bed to be a little more level gazed with the young boy.

"Harry, eyes on me please." He really did prefer keeping eye contact with whom ever he was talking to.

"Oh, right." Harry nodded, lifting his gaze from his socks and looking into Arthur's eyes, holding his gaze.

"I received Professor Dumbledore's owl this morning and he wants to meet with me to discuss our decision to take you into our home." The man began explaining and sighed when Harry's chin dropped again and he was looking at his feet once more. He didn't address it though because he knew it wasn't an act of defiance.

"He's not going to let me stay, is he?" Harry asked dejectedly. He was used to having his hopes and dreams ripped away from him within a matter of moments. He didn't think now would be any different, though he so wished with all his heart and more that it _would_ be. "Am I going to have to go back to the Dursleys?"

"We won't let that happen." Molly cut across firmly, rising from the salmon pink Ottoman and standing at her husband's side when the man had risen to his feet.

"We told you that you were staying here, and we meant it, Harry." Arthur reaffirmed. "Whatever happens, you will have a home here." he knew he shouldn't be promising something so final to the child, but seeing that dejected look on his young face broke his heart and he would have promised the moon if Harry had so desired it in that moment.

It was still too good to be true for Harry, but he made himself nod anyway, willing himself to believe the two loving parents before him.

"I want to go with you." The boy decided after a moment, lifting his head again.

"With me? No Harry." Arthur dismissed quickly, "You'll be in bed for one thing, and for another it's not a conversation a child should hear."

"But _—_!"

" _—_ No." Arthur's tone left no room for argument on Harry's part and he sighed in frustration. How could he _not_ be frustrated? Why did adults always have to keep things from him and exclude him from matters that were _about_ him? It wasn't fair! Just because he was a child? Heck! He wasn't even a child, he was twelve, almost thirteen! Whatever Dumbledore and Arthur had to say they could say in front of him!

"I'm _going_ with you." the boy decided, an air of finality in his voice as he crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Arthur with a defiant stare. "I'm _not_ a child and I have a right to know what's going to happen to me!"

Had Ginny, Ron, Fred, George, Percy, Charlie or Bill spoken to him that way, Arthur would have given them a firm pop on the bottom and warned them about their tone. They knew far better than to speak to him with such disrespect. He had more patience with Harry though, the boy wasn't used to being someone's responsibility and having to follow the rules laid out for him. That was something he would learn over time. Still, Arthur was going to make sure Harry knew not to speak to him like that and dictate what he would and wouldn't do.

"Harry." Molly held a clear warning in her tone but Arthur was determined to have Harry see reason.

"You're staying _here_ , Harry James and you _will_ mind your tone when you speak to me." The man firmly rebuked. "I promise when I get home I will tell you everything you need to know. You need to trust that I only have your best interests at heart. I understand your frustration but there are some things that are best left to be discussed between adults."

"Adults who think they know what's best for me…" Harry mumbled bitterly which did not go unheard by Arthur.

"Adults who _know_ what's best for you, Harry." the man's patience was wearing thin but he kept himself in check because he knew very well that there were going to be some things that Harry would find difficulty coming to terms with. "Unfortunately that's just the way it is for now. I promise you won't be kept in the dark about the outcome though, all right?"

Harry supposed that was better than nothing, and he had to remind himself that Arthur was doing this _for_ him in the first place, doing what he could to keep him there at the Burrow with them and their children, keeping him as part of the family.

"All right, fine." he sighed in defeat.

Molly smiled and brought Harry into a hug, which broke down his defences and caused him to curl up in her embrace like a kitten. He really wasn't used to this, being comforted instead of clouted when he flew into a rage, being held and knowing in his heart that everything was going to be okay, that he didn't have to worry about everything all the time. It was a nice, warm feeling that he wished he could hold onto forever.

"Good boy." Arthur smiled, tousling up Harry's hair fondly. "So, what made you come up to our room in the first place?" he asked.

"Oh right, Ron said you'd have a Joscelind Wadcock card that I could have." Harry answered, lifting his head from the comfort of Molly's shoulder and giving Arthur what could only be described as puppy-dog pleading eyes.

"Oh he did, did he?" Arthur chuckled, "Chaser for Puddlemere, right?" at Harry's nod, he gave the boy a wink, "I'll do you one better than that. I have the Puddlemere Seeker card too, Benjy Williams." he told the boy, heading over to the wardrobe that he and his wife shared, and reaching up on the very top shelf for a small metal tin. Bright purple and gold in colour.

"Really?" Harry's green eyes widened and he pulled out of the hug completely, following at Arthur's heels like an excited toddler. The boy knelt down with Arthur and watched carefully as the Patriarch opened up the tin and revealed a rather organized set of a thousand or more Wizard cards. "Does Ron know about this tin?" Harry asked curiously, blinking in amazement.

"I've given him a card or two from my collection over the years, but the tin itself? No. He'd have his hands on it faster than you can say Quaffle." Arthur chuckled, running his fingers along each hexagonal card. "I always felt that collecting the cards yourself was more important than just _having_ them, which was why I never told him. Sometimes it's much better to work hard for something you really want than to have it simply given to you, because it adds value." he told the boy wisely. "Aha! Here's the little devils." he grinned, taking out both cards each and handing them to Harry.

"Thanks!" Harry beamed, looking down at them with adoration. Ron was going to be so jealous!

Molly smiled and shook her head. Honestly, boys and their toys. It was nice to see Harry and Arthur bonding though, it was important for both him and herself to make those relationships with Harry, the relationship a parent should have with their child. Harry needed to feel loved, safe and wanted. Arthur and Molly were more than inclined to make sure he did.

"I suppose I'll leave you boys to it." she chuckled, exiting the room and making her way downstairs.

"All right, dear." Arthur answered, not looking up from the tin for even a moment. "We'll keep this tin our little secret, okay Harry?" Arthur chuckled, putting the lid back in place and then put the tin back where it belonged.

"I promise!" Harry answered quickly. "Our secret."

Arthur closed the door to the wardrobe and looked back over at Harry, the boy was still knelt on the floor, studying both his newly given cards carefully, grinning from ear to ear. He smiled. It felt so good to see the boy happy despite everything he'd been through. The boy needed a loving family more than he realized and despite being worried about Dumbledore's response, he was going to ensure he did everything in his power to make this boy one of the litter. He adored Harry, even if he hadn't known him for too long, he was already a son in his eyes and in his heart. He would fight for him if he had to, and defend him with his life if it came to that (he prayed it never would). Arthur knew the danger of the risks he and Molly were taking and the potential peril he could be putting his children through with this decision. Voldemort, though gone for now, _would_ eventually return and Harry would be his immediate target.

None of that was going to sway his and his wife's decision to keep the boy though. Maybe they were in way over their heads but they had to believe they could be capable of protecting him. No, they _were_ capable. They _would_ keep him safe at all costs.

"Jeez Harry, what's been keeping you!?"

Harry and Arthur both turned their heads in the direction of the open doorway to see Ron stood there, looking a little irritated. Ah of course, he had been waiting for Harry to return all this time.

"Sorry Ron." Harry answered, getting to his feet. "Look! I got the Puddlemere Chaser and Seeker!" he grinned, showing his cards proudly to his best mate and laughing when Ron's jaw dropped and he gave his Father an affronted look.

"What?! That's not fair!" he whined.

Arthur chuckled, "Keep collecting and you might get them someday too, Ronnie." he indulged his child, reaching out and ruffling up the boy's fiery head of hair as he continued to pout. "Who knows, maybe you'll get some more cards for Christmas, maybe even a Cornelius Agrippa." he told him, an air of whimsicality to his voice.

Ron's brilliant blue eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, "Agrippa?! Really Dad?!"

"Maybe." Arthur shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. "Come on then you two, all this snowy weather and you're cooped up inside like a pair of hermits." he snorted, prodding Ron's side and the crook of Harry's neck in a ticklish fashion. "It's not like you to deny your brothers the opportunity to pelt you black and blue with snowballs, Ronald." he smirked.

"Hey! I give as good as I get!" Ron giggled, jutting his hips away from the tickling.

"Well someone certainly needs to put Fred and George in their place." Arthur laughed, shaking his head.

"I'm pretty sure that's supposed to be your job, Dad." Ron teased.

"Yeah well I'm old and tired and I've been dealing with those two since birth." Arthur answered, "I'm entitled to a break now and again."

Harry and Ron laughed as they hurried to their currently shared bedroom and put on some warmer clothes before sprinting down the stairs and outside to join Fred, George and Percy. Arthur and Molly watched in amusement from the kitchen window all afternoon as their kits took one another on in perhaps the most intense snowball fight they'd ever witnessed. Poor Percy seemed to get the brunt of it toward the end with George, Harry, Ron and Fred teaming up against him, even with his snow-built barracks, poor Percy didn't stand a chance. The prefect wasn't usually the type to engage in silly games with his brothers, but when it involved strategy and the chance to pelt Fred and George in the face with snow, he was all for it.

"Looks like I'd better step in." Arthur chuckled, pulling on a pair of pea green Wellington boots by the door.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away for too long." Molly playfully chided her husband, who'd always been a bit of a child at heart.

"Hey, I'm just doing the right thing by protecting our kit." Arthur chuckled, wrapping a woolly, navy scarf around his neck and pulling on his waterproof coat before stepping out into the middle of the war zone. "Don't worry Percy, I'm here to save you!" he cried out dramatically, ducking behind the barracks with his sixteen year old son. "We can take them."

"They always gang up on me." Percy couldn't help whining a bit. Arthur saw how miserable he was and sympathized with his boy.

"I know, but we'll teach them a lesson, together." he grinned, gathering some snow and packing it into the shape of a ball. "Your old man was quite the connoisseur of snowball fights back in the day." Arthur then got onto his knees and hurled a snowball over their protective wall, managing to catch George (or was it Fred?) on the side of his head.

"I've been hit!" The assaulted teen cried out dramatically.

"Man down! Man down!" the other yelled, "Take cover!"

"Yes!" Percy cheered, punching the air, his narrow face alight with glee.

With the fight a little more even on both sides now, the warring commenced. Snowballs went flying in every direction, hitting faces, bottoms, arms and legs, (and one particular nasty throw from Fred that hit Arthur in the lower regions, causing the man to fall on his knees in the snow). Needless to say Arthur and the kits were exhausted and frozen to the bone by the time the sun began setting over the roof of their home and both teams had called a draw. Each boy was ushered into the warmth of the burrow where Molly and Ginny had spent the afternoon baking more Christmas cookies and fixing hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles for everyone. Each boy (Arthur included) got themselves a warm shower and changed into their pyjamas before settling themselves down for tea (which had been a delicious, piping hot beef stew with buttered bread rolls) and then congregating in the living room with their second mugs of hot chocolate and a warm Christmas biscuit in their hands that evening.

Poor Harry and Ron were fighting to keep themselves awake by eight o'clock, the two having downed their creamy, chocolatey drinks and were now sat together on the sofa, Ron's head on Harry's shoulder, and Harry's head on the arm of the sofa. Arthur smiled from his position in the comfortable recliner and smacked his hands together.

"Bedtime for you two, I think."

"Awww Ickle Ronniekins and Harrybobs couldn't stay awake past eight?" Fred cooed.

"Aww bless their little cotton socks." George added.

"Just for that, you can march your backsides up to bed as well." Molly decided and stretched from beside Ginny on their own respective sofa, "I think it would do you two some good to get an early night."

"But Mum!" George gasped,

"It's far too early!" Fred whined.

"Well there's always the option of disobeying your Mum, staying up later and sleeping on your stomachs." Arthur interjected firmly.

Fred and George opened their mouths to protest but decided against it when their Father fixed them with a warning look. They knew when they had been defeated. Their Father was always a worthy opponent.

"I'm gonna go to bed, too." Ginny decided, rubbing her tired blue eyes and then wrapping her arms around Molly in a hug. "Goodnight Mummy." she yawned.

"Goodnight sweetheart." Molly smiled, returning her little girl's hug and her smile widened as Ginny made her way over to Arthur, giving him a hug too.

"Goodnight Daddy."

"Goodnight love." Arthur smiled, giving Ginny a squeeze and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "Pleasant dreams." Arthur then turned a prompting gaze onto his two scowling fourteen year olds and arched a brow, "Get moving boys."

Fred and George sighed, getting to their feet and mumbling a less than enthused _goodnight._ Both boys then began retreating after their sister up the creaky, wooden staircase and to bed before they got their bottoms smacked good and proper. Their Dad didn't play around when it came to disobeying or disrespecting their Mum.

"Come on kits, up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire." Arthur yawned, getting up from the comfortable recliner and popping his back.

"The…what to what?" Ron mumbled, rubbing his eyes and emitting a loud yawn as he slowly got to his feet as well. Harry joined him, and the two younger boys made their way in a zombie-like fashion upstairs, along the hall and to Ron's room. Since they were both dressed in their pyjamas already, they collapsed into their respective beds and shut their eyes. They were both out like a light by the time Arthur and Molly had made their way up to their room to tuck them in, both of them smiling in amusement over the fact Ron had one leg _and_ one arm dangling over the side of his bed, and Harry had fallen asleep with his glasses on.

"Poor little lambs, all tuckered out." Molly whispered, properly tucking her sleeping bundle of Ron into his bed and pulling the Chudley Cannon covers up to his chin. She then pressed a loving kiss to his forehead and looked over her shoulder as Arthur chuckled.

"Oh I'd say so." he agreed, carefully removing Harry's glasses and putting them on the night stand. The man then tucked the navy Puddlemere United themed blankets more securely around the boy and without really thinking, leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his unruly head of hair. It was instinct really. The man then turned from the sleeping kits and withdrew his wand from his dressing gown pocket, _"Nox."_ the light fled from the room immediately, and the man walked through the door with his wife, shutting it carefully and quietly behind them. "Go on to bed love, I'll be back as soon as I can." the man promised, kissing her lightly on the lips and then making his way downstairs once they'd parted ways.

Arthur grabbed his emerald travelling cloak from beside the fireplace, grabbed a fistful of floo powder and then entered the grate, disappearing without a trace.

Albus Dumbledore would be waiting for him…..


	2. Chapter 2 Spiders and Secrets

Author's notes:

This chapter will delve into a pivotal point in Ron's childhood.

I know Arthur is a little OOC but this is my portrayal of him. A loving Father with an abundance of love to pass on.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Arthur stepped out onto the stone hearth and found himself in the middle of a large drawing room, at least, he _thought_ it was a drawing room. It was dark, almost pitch black. The only source of light being the dim shimmer of moonlight struggling its way through murky window panes. Mr Weasley pulled his wand from his pocket and gave it a small flick.

 _"Lumos."_

The room (now illuminated enough for Arthur to see properly) gave off the impression that it hadn't been utilized in _at least_ ten years or so. There was a thick layer of dust that seemed to cover every flat surface and an unpleasant musty scent that clung stubbornly to the hairs of his nostrils. Large silver cobwebs adorned each corner where the dusty grey walls met with the equally dull, high ceiling. In fact there seemed to be more cobwebs than he first realized (some in perfectly formed webs, others in long strings that cascaded down from a piece of furniture to the floor). There must have been four or five bookshelves against one end of the room packed with dully coloured books of all shapes and sizes, some lined up lazily and abandoned on the shelves, others piled high on top of the base cabinets. Those books had not been opened in quite some time, Arthur could see.

"Sorry little fellow." Arthur muttered, bending down and brushing a rather large spider off of his shoe with the back of his hand (ah, he must have accidentally damaged one of the cobwebs when he stepped out of the open fireplace). He watched the little, hairy creature scuttle away hurriedly to a corner of the room and the man couldn't help thinking of Ron. How utterly mortified the boy would have been to find himself in the abandoned room. Of course, that was all thanks to one of his troublesome twin boys, Fred.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

 _"Ron, the spider won't hurt you, look, I think he just wants to be your friend." Arthur had both hands cupped around a very large, hairy spider that had made its way into his son's bedroom and taken refuge on the poor boy's pillow. Needless to say, terrified little Ron had practically screamed himself hoarse and had gone running to his Mother and Father's bedroom, shrieking for his Daddy to 'Get the 'pider!'_

 _"Nooo Daddy! Nooo!" Ron screamed, tears flowing down his freckled, chubby little cheeks. "Don't like him! Don't wanna be his fwiend!"_

 _Arthur sighed, opening the window and brushing the spider from his palm back outside where it belonged. It had been the same thing every night during that cold October month. Large spiders had begun making their way inside the burrow for whatever reason and all of a sudden their little Ron seemed practically terrified of them. Wasn't it just a few months ago when Ron had been pointing out the clever little Orb weavers in the garden and had been trying to get his hands on them? Where had this fear suddenly come from?_

 _"It's all right now, Ronnie. It's gone." Arthur said softly to his little son, scooping up the sobbing three year old and bringing him back to the bed. "Daddy got it, and it's not coming back." he promised, laying the child down carefully in his bed. He pulled the fiery orange Chudley Cannon themed (because the boy had taken up Charlie's fascination with the team) blankets up to his chin and then settled himself down on the edge of the bed. Arthur carded his fingers through Ron's little mop of Weasley-typical hair and smiled softly. "Get some sleep now, love."_

 _"Daddy what if da 'piders get me?" Ron hiccuped, pulling the covers up to his eyes, which were scanning the room wildly for any other hairy intruders._

 _"They won't. You know they can't hurt you Ronnie. Mummy and Daddy would never let anything hurt you." Arthur promised, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his son's forehead. "Sleep now." he whispered and got to his feet._

 _Ron whimpered, watching his Daddy make the light disappear from the room with his wand and then he walked to the doorway, smiling back at the small boy who managed a small, wobbly smile of his own._

 _"Love you."_

 _"Love ya too Daddy."_

 _Arthur shut the door behind him and sighed heavily, leaning against it and shaking his head. He wished he understood where this sudden and irrational fear had come from but he was at a loss. He'd always made sure to prevent any irrational fears from becoming an issue with his little ones. It seemed he'd been too late in Ron's case, and it had happened without him noticing. Arthur emitted another sigh, running his hand through his full head of fiery red hair (of which he was sure would be thinning by the time Ron was old enough to attend Hogwarts) and he moved away from Ron's door once the sniffing had stopped and he was sure the boy had succumbed to sleep. Mr Weasley walked carefully along the creaky floorboards of the hall, and stopped when he realized he hadn't just been hearing his own footsteps. He turned and frowned when he saw one of his children was out of bed…stood at the end of he hall. Great. He wasn't even going to get ten winks that night, never mind forty!_

 _"Fred. It's late, go on back to bed." To his annoyance though, Fred moved closer and Arthur frowned. This wouldn't be the first time he'd caught one (or both for that matter) of the five year olds out of bed, wanting their third glass of milk or fifth trip to the loo that night. "Fred..." he warned. It was then he noticed his son was sporting a rather concerned, almost guilty expression._

 _"Is Ron okay Daddy?"_

 _"There was a spider in his room. He's all right." Arthur answered, his voice a little more gentle this time around. Mr Weasley thought it was sweet that Fred was concerned, though now that he thought about it, it was odd for the boy to show any sort of sympathy or concern for his siblings and something was nagging at the back of Arthur's mind. "Why?" he asked suspiciously._

 _"Uh…well…" Fred shifted nervously from foot to foot and kept his gaze downcast. "There's somethin' I gotta tell ya."_

 _Arthur's usually gentle, relaxed brows turned downward into a frown and he nodded his head. He would never discourage his kits from opening their hearts to him and he offered out his rather large hand to the five year old, jerking his head in the direction down the hall._

 _"Come on then, we'll go to Mummy and Daddy's room." he decided._

 _Fred gave a sideways glance to the top of the stairs and screwed his face into something of a contemplative expression._

 _"I'm thirsty too, though."_

 _"Fred Gideon, if this is one of your little schemes again, I'll put you to bed with a smacked bottom." Arthur warned, wagging a finger at the five year old. Of course, being so small meant Fred would only get a couple of smacks on his bum and not a full blown spanking across his Daddy's knee._

 _"It's not!" Fred huffed, affronted. "I'm tellin' ya somethin inportant and all I want is a cup of milk."_

 _Arthur was too tired to argue and he blew out a long, frustrated sigh. He supposed Fred could say whatever he needed to say down in the living room. It might be a better idea in the long run anyway since he hadn't really wanted to wake Molly (if she'd managed to fall asleep again after hearing Ron's screaming that was). The man fixed his incorrigible son with a stern expression and shook his head. How did he ever get to the point where he let a five year old make compromises with him?_

 _"Fine, fine." He answered, taking Fred by the hand and leading his little one downstairs to the kitchen. He kept hold of his hand until he'd managed to take his wand out and light up the room though, since Fred had a habit of running into furniture (whether it be accidentally or just for a rush who knew with that boy?). "Go sit down on the sofa." he instructed, releasing the small hand and giving his bottom a gentle pat to get him moving. Arthur then grabbed a cup from the cabinet and filled it with milk using only a few flicks of his wand, and then he joined his cheeky little son in the living room. He didn't really like how wide awake the boy was and thought momentarily that he should have warmed the milk up before giving it to him. How could a five year old be wide awake at one o'clock in the morning?_

 _"Thanks!" Fred beamed, grabbing his cup with both hands and guzzling the milk down quickly._

 _Arthur settled himself into his comfortable recliner and sat forward, hands folded in his lap._

 _"So what did you want to tell me?"_

 _"Um, Ronnie broke my toy broomstick." Fred answered, setting the milk down and looking at his Father importantly, sporting a white milk moustache (which Arthur tried not to smile at). "So I did something to him back."_

 _"...What did you do?"_

 _"I… turned his teddy bear into a spider, only cause he broke my broomstick though!"_

 _Arthur sat there for a moment, blinking his eyes and trying to process what his five year old son was telling him. He had turned his teddy bear into a spider? How on earth had he managed that?_

 _"Do you mean you took Mummy's wand?" Arthur frowned._

 _"No…I just did it like…I thought about it and then I did it."_

 _Accidental magic? That's what it had sounded like. However for a five year old to clearly picture in his mind what he wanted to happen, and channel magic, without a wand no less, well that was just amazing! Arthur was flabbergasted. Was his son some sort of genius child? '_

 _"Did you really?" he gasped, sitting back in his recliner and letting that process in his mind. Then, he remembered how upset Ron had been tonight, how he had trembled and sobbed with fear as he watched Arthur try to catch the spider that had been on his pillow, and another realization struck him. Ron's newly appointed fear of spiders had been Fred's doing. That's why the boy had been wearing such a guilty expression. Arthur leaned forward in his recliner again and narrowed his eyes at the five year old. "Fred, that wasn't a very nice thing to do, was it?" he asked sternly._

 _"He broke MY broomstick!"_

 _"I know that but-"_

 _"-My very absolutely favourite and best one!"_

 _"Fred…"_

 _"All broken and bashed up!"_

 _"Fred!"_

 _"I'll never ever NEVER have a better one!"_

 _"FRED!"_

 _"Daddy, ya don't gotta shout, I'm right here!" Fred pouted._

 _Arthur put his face into his hands and rubbed his temples when he felt a pounding headache coming on. This boy alone was going to be the death of him, he was sure of it. The Weasley patriarch took a couple of moments to calm himself down, reminding himself that it would do no good to find himself arguing with a five year old child._

 _"I understand that you were upset about your broomstick, but why didn't you come and tell me or Mummy instead of trying to get revenge on your brother?" Arthur asked patiently._

 _"I dunno…" Fred started idly swinging his legs back and forth over the edge of the sofa and looked down at his little feet, all wrapped up in his green and orange monkey socks._

 _"What you did to Ron wasn't nice, you may have even traumatized him, Fred." Arthur continued._

 _"What's tram…tize mean?" Fred asked, tightening his little freckled face into a confused frown._

 _"It means you scared him very, very badly."_

 _"Oh…"_

 _"You know Daddy's going to have to punish you for this Fred, what you did was VERY naughty." Arthur chided, a small hint of resignation in his voice._

 _"But thats not fair! Ronnie's not gettin' punished!" Fred whined._

 _"Don't you think he was punished enough when you frightened him with the spider?" Arthur frowned, his tone ever patient._

 _"...No."_

 _"Fred."_

 _"...Maybe."_

 _He supposed that was as much as he could expect from his little ginger whirlwind and he sighed, eyeing the boy carefully and considering his options. The most effective way of punishing him would be to take down his little pyjama bottoms and give his bare bottom a couple of smacks, but at the same time Arthur didn't want to dissuade Fred from talking to him and owning up to what he'd done in the future. He would need to go about this carefully._

 _"Fred, Daddy is very pleased and proud of you for telling me about this." Arthur decided to say first, because he was. It wasn't often that his little kits owned up to the naughty things they'd done. "So as a reward for that, I'll take you to Diagon Alley tomorrow and I'll get you a new toy broomstick." he promised. "First thing."_

 _"Can I get the absolutely fastest one!?" Fred asked, his little brown eyes shimmering with excitement. "Even more faster than the one Percy's got?"_

 _"Yes you can. You can pick any one you like." Arthur promised his son. "Now come here please." he pointed to the spot in front of him and fixed the child with a stern look that let little Fred know Daddy meant business. The boy lost his smile and he sighed dramatically, getting himself down from the squashy, comfortable sofa and then padding his way over to his Father. Arthur took hold of both of Fred's arms gently and looked into those little eyes, "Do you know why Daddy's going to punish you?"_

 _"Cause of the spider thing…" Fred answered, "Cause it was mean."_

 _"Yes it was. It was a very mean thing to do." Arthur scolded and turned Fred to one side. He lowered those green, stripy pyjama bottoms and exposed his little freckled behind._

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

 _Arthur applied two swats to each little chubby cheek and then righted his clothes again. When he turned Fred back around, the little one had tears in his eyes that he refused to let fall. His brave little man. Arthur scooped his little boy up and held him against his chest, pressing a loving kiss to the top of his head._

 _"Daddy loves you so much Freddie-bear." Arthur cooed against the side of his head, pressing another set of kisses to his temple. "And Daddy forgives you." The man stood and with his bundle of Fred in his arms, he made his way back upstairs and to the twins' room. He could see his little Georgie was fast asleep, softly snoring into his pillow and he smiled. He was a very, very lucky man. Arthur pulled back the covers on Fred's bed and then tucked him in. "All comfy?" he whispered so as not to wake George._

 _"Yes Daddy…but…"_

 _Arthur rose a brow,_

 _"Yes?"_

 _"...I need the loo."_

 _This night was never going to end._

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Ron's fear of spiders had been present ever since. It was the same thing every Autumn when the weather grew colder, the nights longer, and those big beasties would find their way inside his home (and to his dismay they seemed to particularly enjoy the corners of Ron's room). Merlin help that boy if he ever came face to face with an Acromantula. No, ...that would never happen. He was sure of that.

"Deep in thought are we, Arthur?"

Arthur brought himself firmly back to reality and turned on his heel, smiling when he saw the silvery mass of beard and robes that was Albus Dumbledore. He was wearing his ever present kind smile, and holding that usual twinkle in those gentle blue eyes.

"Sorry Professor, I was just reminiscing." Arthur answered, walking a few paces over the creaky floorboards slowly. He didn't know if they'd be staying in the room or leaving it, Albus just seemed to linger in the doorway, casting a glance every now and again to an overturned chair or particularly streaky window pane. Arthur followed his eyes, and settled his own on a large portrait of a man with a crooked nose and there seemed to be a twinkle in his eye. The Head of the Weasleys had been able to put the pieces together "Sir this house, is it…?"

"My childhood home." Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, though it's not been a home in quite some time now, I'm afraid." he sighed, giving the room one last long stare before disappearing from the doorway and into the inky blackness that lay beyond. "Walk with me, Arthur?"

The red headed man nodded right away, moving his line of vision from the man in the portrait (which was now peering over his half moon spectacles at him) and following Albus out into the murky, dark hallway. Arthur reached for his wand but Dumbledore steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. The old Wizard rose a hand into the air and gave it a bit of a wave. At once the hallway lit up with a hundred or more little firefly lights that hovered above their heads. Arthur's eyes widened with a childlike wonder and he turned a quizzical expression unto the elder. He'd never seen a charm or spell that could do that before. Then again, he'd not lived even half as long as Albus Dumbledore had. The old headmaster said nothing about it and lead the way across the deep blood red carpet below their feet. Arthur found himself staring at it to avoid the curious and suspicious looks he seemed to be getting from the portraitures of previous Dumbledore family members. They walked in silence, side by side until they descended a set of wide, wooden stairs and found themselves standing in front a large, withered door where the brass door handle had long rusted and corroded.

"We're not speaking here?" Arthur asked after a moment. It became clear that Dumbledore was leading him outside into the snowy beyond.

"No, not here." Dumbledore was giving nothing away. He pulled the door open and he looked onward in awe at the millions of tiny snowflakes falling to the ground, having covered every rooftop and every single inch of the path at their feet. Dumbledore gestured for Arthur to step out first, and the man did so, pulling his travelling cloak a little tighter around his body for warmth. He'd much rather be inside but he had a feeling there was an important reason that the Headmaster had brought them out here.

 _CREAK…THUD._

Albus closed the door on his old childhood home and walked to Arthur's side. He didn't stop though, he continued walking, leaving shallow footprints in his wake. Arthur followed, shaking his head and sighing. He had a feeling he was going to be frozen to the bone before the hour was up.

"Interesting isn't it?" Albus asked, gazing skyward and letting the little snowflakes above them fall onto his face and fleck his silvery beard.

"Sir?"

"How Muggles and Wizards alike underestimate the true magic of this world, the magic of the earth and all it's bounties." Albus hummed. "Natural magic Arthur, is often the most beautiful, and sadly the most overlooked magic there is." he smiled and lowered his head once more.

"It's not magic is it?" Arthur asked, eyebrows knitting together. "Isn't it just the way the world is?"

"I believe the world is, incomprehensibly, an endless prospect of magic and wonder, Arthur." Albus answered, "Because I _choose_ to believe it. Just because you choose not to believe it, does that make it not so?"

"...I suppose not." Arthur replied. "Sir, you didn't bring me here to talk about the magic of snow …did you?" The magic of the earth and beauty of nature was never something to be overlooked of course, but the man was far more interested in the outcome for Harry. He could think of nothing else.

"Ah no, of course not. Forgive me, I suppose I get a little lost in my own thoughts sometimes." Albus chuckled and then he let out a long, slow sigh, his breath visibly curling into the cold air and rising above his head. "You wish to take young Harry into your family?"

"Yes sir." Arthur nodded firmly, glad they were finally addressing the issue.

"I'm sorry Arthur, but I can't allow that." the man answered, shaking his head slowly.

Arthur felt his insides freeze and it had nothing to do with the cold. He knew that answer had been a possibility from the moment he'd sat down to write his letter to the man, but for him to dismiss him so quickly was still _incredibly_ jarring.

"Sir, he's being mistreated back at his home. He's told me about what he's had to endure. He's been locked up in a _cupboard_ most of his life for merlin's sake!" Arthur couldn't keep the pure anger from rising in his voice and it wavered despite his best efforts not to let his emotions control him.

"Do you know about the importance of blood wards, Arthur?"

"Of course I do."

"Then you know why he cannot leave his family home." Albus sighed, walking onward through the snow and over the covered cobblestones of a familiar street, "His Aunt took him willingly …though albeit grudgingly into her home, and in doing so, sealed the charm I placed upon him, a charm that would not have been possible without the sacrifice Lily Potter made for her son that night. There is no deeper magic that can protect him."

"Perhaps not, but that doesn't mean there are no other methods of keeping him safe, Albus. What is the point of saving Harry from… you-know-who…when he's suffering at the hands of those he considers family? What good will it have been to have kept the boy safe from death at _his_ hands if Harry dies from starvation? From one too many wallops with a frying pan?" Arthur asked, his voice levelling but his eyes were swimming with tears.

"And what would you suggest, Arthur?" Albus asked after a moment.

"The Fidelius charm." Arthur answered, not missing a beat. "Harry could stay with us under the protection of the Fidelius charm for as long as necessary. We'd ensure he was properly cared for and loved the way a child should be." there was absolute determination in his voice.

"Arthur, I'm sure I needn't remind you of what happened the last time someone put their trust into the Fidelius charm?" They'd stopped now outside a familiar looking home, a small family home in the heart of a small, quiet village. The Weasley patriarch stopped in his tracks and released a long, weary sigh. Of course he knew where they were. Godric's Hollow, the house where Lily and James were brutally murdered on that night when both Harry and Voldemort lost everything.

"They put their trust in the wrong person Albus. We… Molly and I, are not going to make the same mistake." Arthur reasoned, his heart aching as he scanned the house, thinking about a happy baby Harry, safe and loved as he was put to bed that night, unaware of the fact his life was about to change forever. No child should have been put through what Harry James Potter had suffered.

"And who do you plan on making Secret-Keeper?"

Arthur pulled his attention away from the house (with difficulty) and faced the man again, "Well sir…I was hoping you would do us the honour."

"You have _that_ much faith in me, Arthur?" Dumbledore couldn't help smiling. He seemed to be considering it though, so that was something, "It is quite a complicated charm Arthur, ancient magic as I'm sure you're aware?"

"Yes."

"And are you willing to accept the risks? Are you willing to swear that if the Fidelius charm should ever fail, for whatever reason, that you would protect Harry with your life?"

"Yes." The confidence in Arthur's voice did not waver.

Dumbledore released a heavy sigh and regarded the man before him. Arthur had always shown a very deep testimony of love and the desire to protect others. He remembered the bright eyed, fiery haired first year when he had walked through those large double doors and entered the great hall for the first time. When he had been sorted into Gryffindor, how he had taken quite the severe beating for the love of his life Molly Prewett in their sixth year and still bore the scars to this day. He was sure if there was ever going to be a family who would love Harry as one of their own, and without condition then it was Arthur Weasley's.

"Very well, then Harry will have refuge at the burrow, protected under the Fidelius charm." The man decided after a long while.

"Thank you Albus." Arthur released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and he smiled for the first time since they stepped foot into the snowy village of Godric's Hollow that night. "Ah, there's still the matter of his Aunt and Uncle."

"Oh, leave that to me." Dumbledore smiled, the twinkle in his eye returning and shimmering brightly behind those half moon spectacles. The old Professor then offered his arm to Arthur and cleared his throat, "Are you ready to return home then, my friend?"

Arthur found himself looking away from the man and to a particular place, which gave him cause to shake his head. "Not quite yet, there's something I need to do." Albus followed the man's gaze and gave him a small smile, nodding his head in understanding.

"Then I will wait here for you."

Arthur made his way over the snowy cobblestones and kept his gaze focused ahead on something in particular that would lead his way. He walked for a few minutes until he came to the entrance of a snowy, still graveyard. He had been meaning to visit for some time now, with his wife, perhaps his kids too. Simply just to honour those who had died here that night, but he could never bring himself to do so, he never made the time, it seemed to always slip his mind. It was different now though, he had a real reason to pay his respects. Arthur made his way past rows and rows of graves, honouring people of all ages, taken before their time (mostly), until he stopped a few feet short of one particular grave, a rectangular headstone stood proud, shimmering almost silver in the moonlight and against the snow. Arthur dropped down on one knee and took out his wand, muttering something incoherent and causing the withered, forgotten flowers that adorned the joined grave to bloom with life and tangle their stems protectively around the base of the headstone.

"You never knew me, and I never knew either of you." Arthur looked at the engraved words before him, trying to find the right words to say,

 _In Loving Memory_

 _Of_

 _James Potter & Lily Potter_

 _The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

"Your son, Harry James Potter is an amazing young man, and I know you're both so proud of him. He may not have had the best upbringing, certainly not the one you would have both wanted for him-" Arthur reached out his hand and pressed his palm gently against the grave. He shut his eyes, feeling a warmth rise within his heart that he couldn't explain. "-But I promise I will do _everything_ within my power to ensure he knows love, to ensure his safety and give him reason to hope. I _promise_ you. I will love that boy as though he were my own. I'll speak of you as much as I can, answer any questions he'll have to the best of my ability and one day…Ill bring him here."

Arthur looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder and smiled when he saw Dumbledore looking down at him, a gentle expression on his kind face.

"Ready to go?"

Arthur got to his feet and let out a long, uneven sigh, the man wiping away a few tears from his eyes.

"Yes."

He took Dumbledore's arm and disappeared with him into the night, he couldn't _wait_ to tell Harry the good news….


	3. Chapter 3 Telling Harry

Author's notes:

I hope you're prepared for some family fluff and emotions in this chapter!

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

"Molly dear, are you awake?" Arthur couldn't have expected her to be really, it was midnight already. The man looked down with pure love in his eyes at his sleeping wife and smiled softly. Sometimes when he lay awake at night, he would just prop himself up on his elbows and watch his wife sleep, it seemed to calm the ever growing troubles racing through his mind. "I'll tell you in the morning." he whispered, sitting down on his side of the bed and wrestling his heavy boots from his feet. Arthur then laid down in the bed beside his wife, pulling the white duvet and satin sea foam throw over his torso and up to his chin. Tomorrow morning would certainly be eventful, there was so much to discuss with his wife, with Harry…with his kits. At least he could fall asleep content over the thought that Harry would be staying with them from here on out, he would never have to go back to Number 4 Privet Drive again. "Goodnight Mollywobbles." he whispered, shutting his tired, strained eyes and falling asleep within a matter of minutes.

Morning came far too quickly for Arthur's liking and he groaned when light poured through the small opening of their salmon pink curtains, hitting him full force in the face. The man huffed grumpily and stuck his head underneath his pillow, until he felt a small kiss on his bare shoulder.

"Morning dear."

Arthur's irritation for the morning dissolved quickly as he pulled his head up and turned to face his wife. Her bushy red hair was sticking up in fifteen different directions, her beautiful brown eyes were half shut, dotted with the after effects of a good night's sleep, and she was still as beautiful as ever. Arthur couldn't imagine waking up without his Mollywobbles beside him, he didn't _want_ to imagine such a thing.

"Morning love." he yawned, leaning close and pressing a gentle kiss on her lips (both knew better than to open their mouths too wide first thing in the morning). Molly laid her head down on her husband's bare chest and shut her eyes again. Arthur wrapped a strong arm around her and kissed the top of her head lovingly. "Ever wish we could lay here all day?" he asked, half chuckling.

"Every morning." Molly smiled. It didn't take long for her to remember the events of last night, and how she'd gone to bed alone. She opened her eyes and looked up at her husband, "So? How did everything go? What did Albus say?" she asked, a shimmer of worry shining in her eyes. Arthur could feel her heart beating wildly against his own chest and he was quick to put her mind at ease.

"Well, Albus took some persuading but…your husband has a way with words." Arthur laughed.

Molly sat up immediately, silver tears gathering in those beautiful golden brown orbs. Her small, shaking hands covered her mouth and her heart rate began to climb exponentially.

"Y-You mean…" her voice cracked and a lump of emotion formed in her throat, "He's…he's…?"

"He's ours!" Arthur beamed, sitting up and wrapping his arms tightly around his wife. The last time the two of them had been this elated had been when Molly had thrown her arms around him and exclaimed she was pregnant with Ginny. If two people were ever born to be parents, it was Arthur and Molly Weasley. "He'll never be going back to those abusive gits." he made clear and felt tears brimming in his cobalt blue eyes when Molly's tears cascaded freely down her pretty face.

"Arthur you're amazing! However did you persuade him?" Molly asked, squeezing her wonderful husband tightly and pulling back to look directly into his eyes.

"Well it took some doing, Albus was very attached to the idea of protecting Harry with blood wards." Arthur began explaining, carefully wiping away the woman's tears with his thumbs, "I told him we could keep Harry safe here, with the Fidelius charm."

"The Fidelius charm! Oh you brilliant, clever man!" Molly gasped, throwing her hands up and then placing them on either side of Arthur's face. "You really _are_ amazing, Arthur Weasley." she beamed, slamming her lips onto his and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Both fell back onto the bed, arms wrapped around one another, lips connected and tongues entwined. They wished they could have laid there like that all morning, in one another's arms, wrapped up in this elated feeling - but they both knew any instance of serene silence in the burrow never lasted long.

"How about a cuppa?" Arthur asked once they'd parted and noticed it was already 7:00am on their small, silver hand clock.

"You make the tea and I'll get breakfast going." Molly smiled, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and getting to her feet. It was a cold morning, and Molly was quick to wrap herself up warm in her periwinkle dressing gown and slide her feet into a pair of fluffy slippers.

"Sounds like a plan." Arthur chuckled, making his way to their adjacent bathroom and freshening himself up for the morning while Molly seated herself at the dresser and pulled her hairbrush through her tangled locks until she was satisfied. Teeth brushed, cologne/perfume sprayed, a light layer of make up applied and a quick shave later the two Weasels left their bedroom and made their way downstairs to the kitchen. On days where Arthur wasn't expected at work, the Weasleys could usually be spotted wearing their pyjamas and dressing gowns until as late as noon sometimes, especially in the colder months. Arthur flicked his wand lazily and filled two of their mugs with steaming hot tea while Molly charmed the frying pan and other instruments to fry some eggs, bacon, sausages and tomato. She put some baked beans into a pot and used her wand to heat it up while Arthur laid the table with plates, cutlery and glasses (which he filled with orange juice soon after). Once everything was in place and the right charms had been applied, Molly took a seat at the table with her husband and cupped her hands around her mug of tea.

"So, how should we tell Harry?" she asked over the low sizzling of bacon and egg, bringing the rim of the cup to her lips and taking a sip of the steamy amber liquid.

"Oh I'm sure Harry will be begging us to tell him the moment he gets the chance." Arthur smiled and looked up to the ceiling when he heard footsteps above them causing the floorboards to creak. "Who do you reckon?" he asked.

"Ron never ignores the smell of breakfast." Molly laughed. "Then again, Percy's always been an early riser."

They got their answer a few minutes later when Harry made his way downstairs, dressed in his navy blue pyjamas and a grey hooded jumper to keep himself warm. Though he seemed to have forgone the idea of putting on slippers, or socks for that matter. His bare feet padded along the cold kitchen floor and he looked at Molly and Arthur expectantly,

"What happened last night? Can I stay?!"

"Good morning to you, too." Arthur smiled over the rim of his mug,

Harry's ears burned red when he realized he'd been a little too eager and he reigned himself in a bit, though he continued wildly scanning their faces for any clue as to what had happened last night. Neither parent seemed to be giving anything away though, much to his discontentment.

"M-Morning." he mumbled awkwardly. "So? Am I staying?"

"Oh Harry, at least put a pair of socks on." Molly tsked and shook her head.

"Someone answer me, please!" Harry pleaded, "Mr Weasley!?"

"Do as you've been asked, and go put some socks on. Then we'll talk." Arthur echoed his wife's words, fixing Harry with a semi-firm gaze.

"But _—_!"

" _—_ Harry James." Arthur warned.

Knowing he wasn't going to win this battle, Harry turned on the spot and hurried upstairs. He ran to his and Ron's shared room and grabbed the first pair of socks he could find (one navy and the other maroon) he didn't care that they were odd and he pulled them on hurriedly before sprinting out of the room and running back downstairs. He panted and stood there, looking wildly between Molly and Arthur.

Arthur and Molly exchanged amused looks at Harry's choice of footwear and decided it would be cruel to keep the young man waiting even a second longer.

"You're staying here with us, Harry." Arthur confirmed, a smile on his face. "It took a bit of persuading but _—_ ungh!" before he could properly explain his conversation between himself and Albus, Harry had run to him and slammed himself against his chest. Arthur's heart melted and he wrapped his arms around the boy, emotion building up in his heart. "Shh, I've got you." he whispered against his shaggy mop of hair when he heard the boy sniff.

Molly hurried over, wrapping her arms around Harry and her husband. Harry nuzzled against her and she felt overwhelming love for this boy, the same she felt for each of their kits. The three of them held one another for what felt like hours, Harry and Molly with tears in their eyes, and Arthur with his heart breaking and warming all at once. He would never take for granted how lucky he was, how much love they had in their happy home. He knew with the addition of Harry there would just be more love to go around, more laughter and more lessons for he and Molly to learn as parents.

After a little while, Harry pulled out of the hug and wiped the last of the tears from his watery green eyes. He felt a bit childish for crying and hugging Arthur like he had, but he couldn't help it. Finally he had a loving family, he would have people around him who cared about him and _wanted_ him around. Not only that, but he had someone to love in return, a whole burrow of people! For once, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

"Have a seat love, breakfast is almost ready." Molly smiled, rubbing Harry's back and pressing a kiss against his damp cheek.

Too choked up to say anything, Harry blushed a shade of pink and settled himself into the chair beside Arthur's and he took a sip of the orange juice in front of him.

"Morning Mum, morning Dad!" Ron ran like a whirlwind down the stairs, into the kitchen and hurried himself into a chair beside Harry, the boy was practically salivating over the sizzling bacon and sausages. He had never been late to breakfast at the burrow, not once.

"Morning son." Arthur smiled, picking up a copy of the daily prophet and opening it to read over the headlines of the day.

"Good morning sweetie." Molly laughed, shaking her head as she looked over her shoulder and saw the boy's blue eyes wide with excitement. "You really do love your full English breakfasts, don't you?" she asked, using her wand to diminish the flames and she began serving the food onto plates, evening out the portions as equally as she could.

"Only cause you make the best ones on the planet mum." Ron smiled.

Molly looked a little shocked by the sudden and unexpected compliment but she smiled. Sometimes she forgot how sweet her freckle faced boy could be.

"I think your son's after something." Arthur chuckled from behind his paper.

"No, he just knows a decent meal when he gets one." Molly smirked, "And true talent when it comes to cooking."

"Hey Harry, what's wrong mate?" Ron asked when he caught sight of the red rimmed eyes Harry was sporting and those tear stained cheeks. Had his friend been smacked? He didn't think so, he wasn't having difficulty sitting in the chair. Why else would Harry be crying though?

"I'm fine." Harry dismissed quickly. "Your heartfelt compliment for Mrs Weasley just moved me to tears, obviously." he snorted.

Ron's ears burned scarlet and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Shut up, Harry." he laughed, lightly punching his friend in the arm which made Harry laugh too.

Within the next five minutes, Ginny, Fred George and Percy had made their way downstairs and had settled themselves around the kitchen table. Like their mother's the individual strands of their red hair seemed to stick up in all directions, especially Percy's. Arthur had put away his paper to eat breakfast with his family and Molly had settled herself into the chair beside his, cutting into her egg and bacon happily. Harry smiled, watching Fred and George fight over who got the last slice of bacon, watching Percy natter away to Ginny about one thing or another, Arthur and Molly were whispering to one another and giggling like a couple of school children and Ron was grabbing his third slice of buttery toast in the last five minutes. His heart burned with pride. This was his family, it was crowded and chaotic, nowhere near perfect… and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

After a little while, Arthur and Molly exchanged looks and the head of the family cleared his throat.

"Weasleys, there's something important we need to talk about." he announced and then smiled, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "As of this morning, Harry is going to be living here with us, he's now apart of this family and I know you'll make him feel welcome."

No one could have looked more excited about this news than Ron. He and Harry would be like brothers! His best mate would be sleeping in his room every night, they could play exploding snap and Quidditch out in the back garden whenever they wanted, this was brilliant!

"Never had a specky, scrawny Weasley before." George hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, we have Percy." Fred interjected.

"Ah, very true!"

If looks could kill, the death glare Percy and Harry sent the twins would have struck them both dead where they sat.

"Stop insulting your brother, you two." Molly chided, wagging a finger at the fourteen year old boys.

"Which one?" They both asked in unison.

"Percy!" Molly snapped, "Wait, no…Harry! No. Both!" she growled in frustration.

"Well, always good to have an extra pair of hands around to do the chores!" Fred beamed, raising his glass of orange juice to Harry.

"Speaking of which Harry, the loo's looking a bit grim." George smirked.

"And our dirty socks and underwear need a good wash." Fred mused.

"BOYS!" Molly snapped, her patience wearing thin.

Arthur hid a small smile behind a slice of toast and shook his head. The twins were completely incorrigible of course, but the man couldn't help but find their antics rather amusing at times.

"Do I really have to do those?" Harry wasn't sure if he should take them seriously or not since back at the Dursleys he had been expected to do all the chores, pleasant and unpleasant but mostly unpleasant.

"No, dear." Molly answered quickly. "But Fred and George certainly will if they carry on."

"And I believe that's our cue to leave Fred," George whispered.

"I concur." Fred nodded, the pair of Weasley boys vacating the table quickly before Molly could set them to work with unpleasant household chores. After that, Percy followed, at least having the decency to put his dirty cutlery and plates into the sink to wash. Ginny was next to leave, copying Percy and then heading up to her room to read over her second hand copy of the standard book of spells for the fourth time. Ron and Harry took their things to the sink as well and then headed up to their room to play a bit of Wizard's chess.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Both boys sat cross legged on the floor, concentrating hard as the game ensued. Of course, Harry was struggling and Ron was on top form as per usual. Pieces of broken blood red pawns and knights were scattered around the chess board as a testimony to Harry's ever crushing defeat.

"Pawn to H3." Harry said after a long moment of intense focus, watching as his quivering pawn moved a couple of squares forward. He didn't seem very confident in Harry's play and the boy realized he had every reason to doubt him.

Ron smirked,

"Queen to H3." He watched with satisfaction as his crisp white chess piece practically smashed Harry's to pieces and sent bits of ceramic across the floorboards.

"How long have we been playing?" Harry groaned, idly flicking a small fragment of his deceased pawn across the room.

"About two hours I think." Ron shrugged.

"Feels like six." Harry grumbled, settling himself down on his stomach and propping his head up with his chin on his folded arms. How was it only 11:00am?

"You're a sore loser Harry, y'know that?" Ron laughed.

"I'd rather be outside playing Quidditch." Harry pouted.

"Too cold. All that snow's iced over and _—_ "

"RONALD BILIUS! HARRY JAMES! COME DOWNSTAIRS THIS INSTANT!"

Both boys looked up and over to the open doorway immediately. Arthur did not sound happy. They exchanged quick, nervous glances, wondering what they could have possibly done to get into trouble.

"Did we do something?" Ron asked anxiously.

"Uh…not that I can think of?" Harry scratched his head in confusion, thinking back to the events of the morning and wondering if there was anything they'd done or not done to land them in hot water. Nothing came to mind. Neither young Lion cub moved from where they were, at least not until Arthur called them a second time, his thundering voice sounded much closer this time.

"BOYS! I WILL NOT CALL YOU A THIRD TIME!"

Harry and Ron both got to their feet and abandoned their chess game as they headed out the room along the hall and to the top of the stairs where they could see Arthur Weasley waiting for them at the bottom, his eyes were ablaze with fury and his eyebrows were pulled down low into a deep frown. Both boys audibly gulped and Ron, knowing better, used both hands to cover his bottom as he slowly followed Harry down the stairs.

Arthur stepped back when both kits joined him, and he gestured to an opened letter on the table, fixing both lion cubs with a stern expression.

"You _both_ have some explaining to do."

The boys made their way over to the table and in turn read the letter presented to them. When they'd finished reading, both their faces had turned pale. They were going to be in so much trouble….

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

Author's note: Ooh I wonder what they read in that letter? Must be pretty bad for Arthur to call them out on it.


	4. Chapter 4 Polyjuice and Promises

Author's notes:

Sorry this one took a while, it was hard to get into a flow.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

It seemed to be the appropriate thing to do, to sift through every piece of post that came to the burrow while Harry was in their care. Albus Dumbledore and Arthur had not yet made the necessary arrangements to put the Fidelius charm into place, (there were a few things that needed to be taken care of first), and there were some safety measures that the Weasleys would have to take until that time. One of those measures included checking post that came and left their home. That was unfortunately why Ronald Bilius Weasley and Harry James Potter were in a heap of trouble.

A letter had come for them just forty five minutes prior, and Arthur had opened it. It may have been a harmless letter from a school friend, but there was also the possibility of it being a letter that might draw Harry out and into danger, or the ink may have been concealing some sort of curse. Arthur Weasley was not willing to take that risk. So despite it going against his children's right to privacy, he opened the letter and read through it. What the letter contained…did not make for a very happy Papa Weasel.

Harry and Ron approached the battered, cheap wooden table in the middle of the kitchen and their eyes scanned the opened letter in unison,

 _Dear Harry and Ron,_

 _I hope your Christmas holidays are going well? Mum says we're going to be spending Christmas in Germany this year. I'm so excited! Harry, did you know the black-forest broomstick company, Ellerby and Spudmore, originated in Germany? Abel Spudmore's son actually went on to create the firebolt! I can't believe I'm going to get to see the first ever Firebolt in history! I'll be sure to take lots of pictures of course, I wish you were coming with me. Mum and Dad don't really know too much about Quidditch…which is to be expected I suppose. It'd be nice to swap facts with you though. I'm not very interested in the sport myself, but who could pass up an opportunity to marvel at something so historical?!_

Harry couldn't help the jealousy swelling up inside him after reading that, and he exchanged looks with Ron before continuing to read,

 _Oh before I forget, I took some books home with me from the library, I even managed to take one of the books from the restricted section (thanks to your cloak of course) and I've been perfecting the boomslang skin measurements. Guess what else? It will be a full moon the week we return to school. We'll be able to pick some fluxweed at last! The polyjuice potion should be ready within a few weeks of going back. Can you believe we may finally be on the verge of finding out who the heir of Slytherin is once and for all?_

 _I've sent your presents by Owl order and I hope they get there in time for Christmas eve, tell Ron he's going to love what I got for him!_

 _Merry Christmas and a Happy new year,_

 _Hermione x_

"Something tells me you're not mad about the fact we don't get to go to Germany to see the first Firebolt…" Harry muttered, avoiding Arthur's eye. Oh no, he knew why the man was furious with them. He knew why his face was pink with rage. Polyjuice potion was something second years ought not to be dabbling in. In fact, it was against school rules to be brewing it, not to mention Hermione had had to _steal_ a few ingredients from Professor Snape's private stores.

"Polyjuice potion? Polyjuice?!" Arthur had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "You're both far too young to be playing around with polyjuice."

Harry felt a small surge of fury rise up under his skin, and he scowled.

"We're not _playing around_. We know what we're doing. We're not little kids!" He hated the way Arthur had said it, as though they were too young to handle something so complex, so advance.

"Watch your tone, Harry James." Arthur was quick to rebuke the young man before he got way out of line. "This is the very thing the both…no, the _three_ of you don't seem to understand. You're all _kids_ and it's not on you to find out who the heir of Slytherin is. You're too young to be messing around with polyjuice potion. I'm sure you know how many school rules you've broken just by attempting it?"

"But Dad…" Ron started to whine, looking as though he might burst into tears. He seemed to know the severity of the trouble he and his best friend were in.

"You had _no_ right opening that letter!" Harry barked suddenly, his hands clenched into fists and his jaw set. "That was a letter for _us_ , not you!"

Arthur closed the distance between himself and the bespectacled boy rather quickly after that, and before Harry could dart off like he usually would, he was turned to the side and Arthur applied three firm smacks to his bottom.

"Strike two Harry James. You're on thin ice so I suggest you keep yourself in check." the Weasley Father scolded after releasing the twelve year old. He hated to smack the boy, but he had to realize the way he spoke to the man was completely out of order, and Mr Weasley wouldn't stand for it. "As for the letter, normally I would agree with you. However there are certain measures that need to be taken now that you're away from your family's home and staying here."

"What, someone's going to send over an unfriendly spell in a letter, are they?" The boy huffed, furiously rubbing at his bottom and glaring at Ron's father "Seal Voldemort in the parchment?" Normally Harry wouldn't be so disrespectful, but he wasn't used to someone telling him that he could and couldn't do something. He wasn't used to being treated like the child he was, and he wasn't adjusting to this new change very well.

"Don't say his name. Curses and charms can be concealed in certain inks and quills, Harry. Not only that but someone could have written a letter intending to draw you out and toward them." Arthur countered carefully, eyeing Harry with a look of warning.

"You think I'm _that_ stupid?" Harry growled, glaring pure hatred down at the floorboards as if they'd just insulted his mother or something.

 _BANG!_

Arthur lost his temper and slammed his fist furiously down on the table causing poor Ron, who was already a bundle of nerves, to jump about a foot in the air.

"Of course I don't! You're not stupid Harry but you have been known to act impulsively. I swore to myself, Albus Dumbledore and your parents, _I swore_ I would keep you safe and I intend to make good on that promise. There are people out there who want you _dead_ , Harry James and they will use any means necessary to bring you harm. I'm not going to let anything happen to you!"

Harry lost his scowl and lifted his gaze from the floorboards to Arthur's face.

"You can kick and scream all you want but I'm _not_ going to step back and allow you to be harmed. You haven't really had to conform to anyone's rules and expectations before but that's going to change from here on out."

"What does that mean?" Harry frowned.

"For a start there will be a set of rules that you will need to follow. There will be certain things expected of you, however Molly and I plan on going over that with you tonight, before supper."

Harry dropped his gaze again, that certainly didn't sound good.

"As of right now, you're both in trouble for meddling with polyjuice potion, I also have no doubt that you didn't find the ingredients yourselves?"

"Well…Professor Snape has a large supply…" Ron answered softly, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"So you stole from him?" Arthur's voice was hard, and made Ron wince.

"No! Hermione did." Ron squeaked, and then looked down at his feet, ashamed of himself for throwing his friend under the proverbial bus so quickly.

"But you knew about her stealing them? You also knew about her taking a book from the restricted section of the library, correct?"

"Daaaad I'm not Hermione's keeper. Why don't you tell _her_ off instead?" Ron huffed.

"Watch the attitude, Ronald, and believe me, I will be sending an Owl to Hermione's parents once Christmas is through." Arthur made sure to let both boys know. Hermione deserved to be in trouble too, the three of them together had broken the school rules, not just one or the other. Still, it was Christmas and he didn't want to spoil the Granger's festivities with an unpleasant letter. So, he would wait. "I want you both to tell me honestly each rule you have broken, or intend to break."

"Why? We're gonna get smacked anyway…" Harry scowled.

"If you're truthful with me, the consequences won't be too harsh." Arthur countered quickly. "So, brewing polyjuice potion and stealing…or rather, using stolen ingredients, that's two. Any others?"

"Well uh…we've been brewing the polyjuice in the…girl's bathroom." Ron admitted. Both boys had known that was against school rules, even if the bathroom they had been making use of had been abandoned because of a certain irritating ghost.

"All right thank you Ron, that's three."

"We plan to…break into the Slytherin common room." Ron continued.

"Four. Good boy Ron." Arthur managed a small smile, proud of his son for being so honest. He turned an expectant look onto Harry and rose a brow, "Harry?"

"I dunno." The boy answered, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

"Harry James," the warning in Arthur's voice was clear and the twelve year old released a heavy sigh.

"We uh… plan to knock Crabbe and Goyle out with a sleeping draught." He answered quietly, "…To get the hairs." Harry supposed if Ron was going to run his mouth, there was no point in hiding anything.

Arthur felt the fury bubbling under his skin like hot lava when Harry basically told him that he, Ron and Hermione planned to _drug_ a pair of Slytherin students. That was quite a serious matter, though he couldn't be too upset about it, considering the boys hadn't actually gone through with it…yet.

"...Okay, thank you Harry. That's five so far. Any others?"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances and pondered over whether or not to tell Arthur about the explosion Harry had caused in the Potions classroom.

"Boys?" Arthur prompted.

"I may or may not have set off a Filibuster's firework in Snape's classroom." Harry mumbled.

"Harry!"

Arthur couldn't contain his sudden burst of shock and rage this time. He could have seriously injured someone, he could have injured himself! This infraction would need to be met with a much firmer approach.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you how _dangerous_ that is!?" Arthur frowned. After all, he expected that sort of behaviour from Fred and George, not Harry.

"No sir…" Harry answered.

The man sighed heavily and brought a free hand through his thinning red locks as he processed everything the boys had told him.

"Okay…so," he straightened up, crossed his arms over his chest and eyed both boys sternly. "Making an advanced potion, taking books from the restricted section of the library, using stolen ingredients belonging to a Hogwarts professor, entering the girls bathroom, breaking into another House's common room, _drugging_ fellow Hogwarts students, Impersonating those students, and setting off dangerous fireworks in a confined classroom. " he listed off slowly.

"Half of which we haven't even done yet." Harry frowned.

"Having the intention to do something is just as bad as doing it, Harry James." Arthur scolded.

"I guess."

"I'm sure you both know you're going to be punished for this?" Arthur asked, resignation in his voice. He hated doling out the discipline. "For everything you were honest about, you're both _grounded_ for a week." he made clear. "If you hadn't been honest with me, you would have both been smacked with my slipper, because believe me, I _would_ have found out."

"Yes sir…" Harry sighed.

"Yes Dad." Ron agreed, both boys hanging their heads a bit. It wasn't good news, but it was certainly a bit of sugar on the pill, as it were.

"Grounded for a week means no Wizards chess, no exploding snap, no leaving the burrow …and no swapping wizards cards." Arthur specified and felt his heart ache when Ron lifted his head and whined like a kicked puppy.

"So basically, a week of imprisonment where we'll be expected to die of boredom." Harry huffed.

"Do you want your bottom smacked with a slipper instead?" Arthur returned, a scowl of his own crossing his features.

"N-No thank you." Harry answered, ears and cheeks burning red at the thought of it.

"I didn't think so." Arthur frowned, "Keep up this foul attitude of yours Harry James, and you will _not_ like the consequences." his patience with Harry was holding together by a few threads at this point. It was clear to Arthur that Harry was in dire need of an attitude adjustment and if he gave him one more instance of bad attitude, he would make sure he got one.

"Yes sir…" Harry answered a little more respectfully.

"As for brewing the polyjuice in the first place, you can both expect a trip over my knee. Not only is the transformation excruciating, but things can go horribly wrong. People have been known to be turned completely inside out because their polyjuice was poorly brewed." Arthur continued. "Brewing polyjuice should have _never_ crossed your minds, either of you."

"Well…it was Hermione's idea." Ron mumbled.

"But you didn't discourage her."

"Well…no." the red head admitted.

"And Harry, you and I will be having a separate discussion about the firework you set off in the classroom." Arthur turned his attention to the dark haired boy and fixed him with a dangerous look. "You could have hurt someone, you could have injured _yourself_. Despite the string of luck you seem to have whenever you face peril, you are _not_ invincible young man."

"Yes sir. Wait, separate discussion? What does that mean?" Harry asked tentatively.

"It means that, while Ron will be getting his punishment over his boxers…yours will be coming down." Arthur explained.

Ron winced and shot his best friend a look of sympathy. He knew how rubbish it was to have your bare bum smacked for something. Harry's soft green eyes widened exponentially during that explanation and he shook his shaggy mopped head from side to side, stepping back a few inches across the wooden floorboards (which creaked their displeasure beneath his feet).

"No! No you can't!" he found himself whining like a five year old, though he hadn't intended his plea to come across so childishly. "You can't Mr Weasley! I-I'm not even your kid!" even the _thought_ of being bare bottomed across this man's lap (his best friend's Dad no less!) caused his face to explode with colour.

"I can Harry, and I will." Arthur answered simply. "You might not be my flesh and blood, but I'm your _guardian_ now, and I intend to treat you as one of my own."

Harry would have thought that sentiment was rather sweet, touching even, had it not entailed the fact Arthur Weasley was entitled to smack his bare bottom that was. Getting smacked over his trousers the other day, that had been bad enough, but to have those and his underwear tugged down? That was beyond humiliating and daunting.

"It's not so bad mate, just hurts a bit more." Ron tried to reassure his friend,

"Ron, I want you to go and wait upstairs in your bedroom please, while I deal with Harry." Arthur said after a moment, a small smile on his face at his son's attempt to try and make Harry feel better.

Ron's eyebrows knit together in a confused frown. That was a bit odd, his Father had always said if he made mischief with a sibling then they would be punished together. Harry was now living with them, and his parents were taking care of him, so Ron considered him a sibling too. Still, he knew better than to argue and just nodded his head.

"Okay Dad." the boy turned slowly on his heel, put a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze before disappearing up the creaky, wooden staircase and to their shared bedroom.

Harry was feeling nervous now. Why had Arthur suddenly sent his friend away? Why was it suddenly just the two of them? Was Arthur wanting privacy to make this easier…or was this some evil attempt to really hurt him? Would Arthur give him a bruise or two? Smack him in the mouth like his Uncle Vernon had? The boy felt his heart hammering against his rib cage, blood pounding in his ears. It really set him on edge that Arthur had gotten rid of the only 'witness' he had, and now it was just the two of them, alone in the kitchen. Harry hadn't exactly been respectful, he'd snapped and gotten short with the man. What if Arthur wanted to make him really, really sorry for that?

"All right, Harry,"

The gentle voice pulled the boy from the depths of his anxiety, though the emotions still warred inside him as he looked into the man's calm, blue gaze. He watched, holding his breath as Arthur pulled out a chair from beneath the kitchen table and brought it to the centre of the room. Cold sweats ran over every inch of his body and he felt his hands begin to tremble. Should he run? He momentarily glanced to the door of the burrow. Where would he go? Who would take him in? No, he couldn't run. Maybe he could fight Mr Weasley off? Harry eyed him carefully from head to toe. He had a thin but strong build and Harry was scrawny with noodles for limbs. No, that wasn't an option either. He could shout for help? The Weasley kits were all buried away in their rooms, would they even hear him?

"Come here please." Arthur had seated himself and was now patting his lap meaningfully.

Harry shook his head, frozen, rooted to the spot. He couldn't move his feet even if he tried. His limp noodle legs felt like jelly, his knobbly knees were wobbling with fear. His feet felt as heavy as lead, like trying to walk with two sturdy anvils tied to his ankles. Harry hadn't been so afraid the first time, the other day, because he had Ron nearby and the bespectacled boy knew Arthur wouldn't have tried to hurt him with his son present, with a _witness_ present.

"I can't…"

"Don't you trust me, Harry?"

"I don't know..." Harry admitted, biting his lip.

"This isn't the first time…" Arthur couldn't keep the concern from his voice.

"...Ron was there then."

Arthur's heart broke as realization dawned upon him. Did Harry think just because they were alone he was going to hurt him? Had the abuse he'd suffered at the Dursley's hands played a bigger part in Harry's life than he thought? Was he incapable of trusting people? It would make sense of course. He had known abuse victims, how everything they'd suffered had seriously warped their view of people. How they had the inability to trust people, even those who were closest to them.

"Harry, I would never, _ever_ hurt you the way your Aunt and Uncle did." The man quickly reassured, his tone level and firm so that Harry would know he was being sincere.

"You're mad at me though, you got mad at me and hit the table." Harry couldn't help saying.

"The _table_ Harry, not you." Arthur reminded him quickly.

"You hit _me_ too…three times."

"I smacked your bottom, Harry." Arthur sighed. "I gave you a fair warning to mind your attitude and you continued to speak to me with a level of disrespect that I won't tolerate."

"It still hurt…" Harry couldn't keep the indignation from his voice.

"It was supposed to." Arthur sighed again for what felt like the thousandth time and leaned forward a little in the chair, "But I didn't smack you in anger, Harry. I gave you three controlled smacks in hopes it would get your attention." he paused. "Do you understand why I'm going to give you a spanking?"

"Because I set off a firework in the potions lab and played-er, _meddled_ with polyjuice potion." Harry sighed glumly.

"And why was that naughty?"

Harry's cheeks burned at the use of the word, he felt like a child no taller than Arthur's knee. He dropped his gaze to his feet and willed the temperature in his face to drop.

"Uh…um, cause it was against the rules?"

"Yes, what else?" Arthur prompted.

"Cause um…uh…coulda…been hurt…?" Harry found it hard to own up to that fact. It still baffled him that there was someone in his life who _would_ care if something happened to him.

"Yes Harry, you could have been hurt and you could have hurt someone else. I will not tolerate that." Arthur affirmed. "You are essentially one of my kits now and _—_ _"_

" _—_ Don't you mean kids?"

"Pardon?"

"You uh, you said…kits?"

A small smile spread onto Arthur's thin lips and his cheeks tinged the slightest shade of pink.

"Ah, well that's a term of affection I adopted early on. A _kit_ is another name for a baby Weasel, and I suppose I still see my rabble as my babies." Arthur's patronus was a Weasel after all, and they called their home _'The Burrow'_ so of course he was going to feel a sort of attachment and likeness to that particular animal.

"Oh." Harry answered, not really sure how else to respond. He did think it was nice though, that Arthur held so much affection toward his 'kits'.

"All right, I think that's enough talk." Arthur said softly, the resignation returning to his voice, "Come and lay over my knee, please."

"Only if I can keep my underwear up."

Arthur's usually patient expression hardened just a bit and he shook his head,

"You don't get to dictate or compromise anything regarding your punishments, Harry James." he warned, "Come here, _now_." he crooked a finger at the boy, everything from his expression to his posture warned the child that it would be in his best interests to obey.

Harry willed himself to move, but it was as if someone had cast _Petrificus Totalus_ on him, he just couldn't. He felt frozen to the spot, like the heavy feeling in his gut was an anchor weighing him down. He had never really let down his defences with anyone before, and he had never allowed himself to be vulnerable in any situation. Having his bottom bared and relinquishing control to Arthur Weasley was something that he didn't think he could do. How could he put that much trust into someone after what he'd been through at the Dursleys? His soft green orbs began filling with tears and he sniffed back the moisture forming in his nostrils.

"I can't…I just…I can't." he stammered.

Arthur felt his heart sink when the boy got himself worked up, and he realized that he was going to have to earn Harry's trust before taking certain steps. He hadn't given much thought to how being smacked on his bare bottom would affect the boy emotionally and psychologically. Harry hadn't been raised among his litter, he hadn't known love, security and guidance from two loving parents. It would take some time for him to adjust to his new surroundings and Arthur understood that, he just wished he had realized it sooner.

"All right." He said after a moment, "Don't cry Harry, come here." he said gently, rising to his feet and approaching the boy slowly, arms open.

Harry walked slowly too, until the distance between him and Arthur closed and he found himself in the man's arms, being held lovingly and firmly to the man's chest. The boy wrapped his limp arms around him and hid his face, moisture and all, into the comfort of Arthur's beige sweater-vest. Arthur's gentle hand carded through each unruly strand of hair, cradling his head close and he felt safe there. Harry listened to Arthur's gentle beating heart and shut his eyes. Was this really how it felt to have a loving parent? To feel so safe and secure? So warm and loved?

All too soon for Harry's liking, the hug broke apart and Arthur retrieved a handkerchief from his breast pocket. The boy stood still and let Arthur gently mop away all the moisture from his damp face, knowing it would be soaked again anyway once his punishment was over.

"Harry, I want you to feel as though you can trust me," Arthur started saying as he took a seat and looked into those watery green eyes, "So I'm not going to take down your underpants, this time anyway. It wasn't fair of me to expect you to trust me to that extent. After all, I forget how little time we've actually known one another, it feels as though you've always been in my life." he smiled a little sheepishly.

"I-I appreciate that, Mr Weasley." Harry answered, grateful for the fact the man was willing to accommodate him. "And…I'm sorry."

Arthur smiled and gave Harry's hand a gentle squeeze. He knew the boy was being sincere and he appreciated the apology even if it wouldn't prevent him from giving him a good smacked bottom.

"Thank you, Harry. Are you ready?" Arthur asked gently.

Harry felt his heart begin to hammer again but somehow he made himself nod. He had to trust that Arthur wouldn't hurt him beyond a sore bottom. Would it be like last time? Would Arthur hold him after it was over? He hoped so.

"Once your punishment's over you'll be forgiven and this incident wont be mentioned again…" The man paused, "Well, actually there is something we need to talk about when this is over regarding the polyjuice potion, but other than that it won't be mentioned again." with that said, the Weasley Patriarch brought Harry to lay face down across his lap.

He planned on starting out over his trousers and ending over the seat of his boxers. Arthur was going to be making this smacking quite memorable because he needed to prevent this sort of thing from happening in the future. He didn't want any serious harm to come to his son or his new ward. Without saying a word, Mr Weasley rose his hand and delivered the first stinging smack to the boy's left cheek, and he repeated the action on his right cheek.

"Ah!" Harry emitted a small gasp of pain and shifted his position a bit.

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Another four smacks came hammering down, Arthur's palm alternating from his left cheek to his right cheek. This time, the man didn't lecture the young boy, he let his hand do the talking because Harry knew why he was being punished. There was nothing left to say.

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

A sharp flurry of swats descended across the boy's upper thighs, the man's hand dancing from left to right again before moving to those sensitive under curves.

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

"Oww! Ah! M-Mr Weasley!" Harry yelped, shifting his position a little more and kicking his feet a bit as the sting settled from the middle of his bottom to the tops of his thighs. The man definitely had a hard hand that knew exactly how to administer a decent spanking.

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Four crisp smacks to the seat of his bottom caused the boy to elicit a louder cry of pain and kick his feet with more vigour. Arthur wrapped his arm around the boy's middle to keep him in place and went back to applying sharp swats to the top of his thighs.

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

"Owww! No more! Ah! It hurts!" Harry whined, as though that wasn't obvious to his punisher.

"It's supposed to, young man." Arthur answered, unsympathetically. He couldn't feel too badly for the child, he had earned every single smack he got (though he had to admit hearing the boy's pained cries did tug at his heart strings). "That's the point of this punishment."

 _SMACK! SMACK!_

After two harsh smacks to either buttock, Arthur relinquished his wand from his pocket and, using a charm, caused Harry's trousers to shoot down quickly and bunch around the back of his knees. The man put away his wand and started to gently rub the child's back when he gave a small whimper of protest.

"You're all right." he soothed, tone gentle.

"No I'm not…" Harry pouted which made Arthur smile a little. Resigned, he moved his palm back to the seat of the boy's bottom, now only protected by the thin fabric of his maroon coloured boxers. Unfortunately for Harry, his upper thighs were a little exposed and Arthur could see they were edging on a dark pink hue.

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Two swats came crashing down to either cheek, and a harder one to the middle of his bottom which caused tears to burn in Harry's eyes.

"Owww! Ahhhowww! Noooo!" Harry yelled, bucking with more determination and trying to wiggle his bottom out of the line of fire. He wouldn't sit down for days, weeks…months! The tears that burned in his eyes threatened to spill but Harry refused to let them fall, he couldn't cry this early on! He wouldn't allow himself such indignity.

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Unfortunately, those last four to his exposed upper thighs (where the skin was much more sensitive) broke Harry's resolve and the silvery tears began cascading down his pink, slightly heated cheeks. He sniffed back the moisture forming in his nostrils to no real avail. No matter how much he sniffed or wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his face just seemed to get wetter and wetter.

"Argh! Nooo!" Harry pleaded, his voice cracking as Arthur tipped him just a little further over his knee. He knew why he'd done that, he knew the purpose of this sudden change of position. Arthur was going to smack those very sensitive under curves. "P-Please! Please…I learned my lesson M-Mr Weasley…" he whimpered, a sob catching in his throat.

"We're almost done now Harry, last six." Arthur promised.

"B-But _—_!"

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

Three swift, sharp smacks thundered across his left under curve and caused the poor skinny boy to break down into sobs.

 _SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!_

A final three to his right under curve only elicited a louder sob from the child as he laid limply across the man's lap, his bottom and thighs ablaze. It was over. Harry felt the sobs shudder through his skinny frame, causing his shoulders to tremble and his hands to shake. Crying so openly and sincerely was something he wasn't quite used to, he didn't know how to just succumb to a natural cry. It helped tremendously though, when Arthur scooped him up and hugged him tightly to his chest, arms wrapped lovingly and securely around him. Harry buried his narrow, damp face against Arthur's chest and his sobbing started to become a little more natural.

"Good boy Harry, you cry as much as you need to." Arthur cooed gently, rubbing the boy's back and rocking him from side to side simultaneously to try and soothe him. "I've got you, it's all right now. You're forgiven." he promised, pressing his jaw gently against the side of Harry's head, and to his surprise the boy nuzzled against him, like a kitten nuzzling close to it's parent for warmth.

They stayed there like that together for a good three minutes until Harry had calmed himself down to the occasional sniff and hiccup.

"Harry?"

"Y-Yeah?" The boy looked up so that he was meeting Arthur's eye, and the man gently wiped the tears from beneath his glasses with his thumbs,

"I want you to promise me, that when you go back to school you won't go through with your polyjuice plan." The firmness in Arthur's voice was not to be ignored, and with a sore, heated bum, he knew arguing would do him no good.

"O-Okay…"

"Promise me, Harry."

"I-I promise." Harry answered and reached back to rub his sore behind through the thin fabric of his underwear. "Can I get up now, sir?"

"Thank you Harry." Mr Weasley answered, giving the boy a loving squeeze, "Of course you can, and you don't have to call me sir." he smiled.

Harry got up from the man's knee and his hands flew to his well punished bottom, rubbing furiously at a sting that could not be doused with anything but time. He tugged up his trousers and winced, wishing he hadn't when the fabric only irritated his smacked skin.

"I'll never sit again." he pouted.

Arthur threw his head back, an amused laugh escaping him.

"Believe me, that was a love tap compared to some of the punishments I've given my kits over the years." the man smirked and got to his feet, his smile fading when he realized he still had Ron to deal with. It was going to be a long day.


End file.
